Guardian Angel
by ThisCatalyst'sPen
Summary: Donatello didn't believe in angels. His mind only worked scientifically, and mathematically, and there was just no plausible scientific analysis to prove that such celestial beings existed. Injured and alone one night, Don is forced to reconsider everything he believes in, including angels. UPDATED AND CONTINUED. WILL NOW BE 4 CHAPTERS.
1. Chapter 1- Donatello

_**G**__uardian __**A**__ngel_

_Part 1_

* * *

_~The Angel~_

Donatello didn't believe in angels. His mind only worked scientifically, and mathematically, and there was just no plausible scientific analysis to prove that such celestial beings existed.

But that didn't really matter now, seeing as Donatello knew he was going to die now anyway.

_How could I have been so stupid? _He thought dimly to himself, the world spinning dizzily around him, changing from solid forms of shapes to twisted blurs of colours and smudges.

The rain came down heavily, blurring his vision and making his mask stick uncomfortably to his face. Thunder boomed in the distance and shook the city to its roots. Flashes of pure white energy sliced across the sky in ragged bolts, lighting the world up in a brilliant flash for all of two seconds, before disappearing and leaving the night plunged into darkness once more.

_Wonder how long it will take for the others to know I'm gone? And how long it will take them to realize I'm not coming back._

Don fought to keep breathing, his chest tight and his head light from lack of oxygen and blood loss. He could feel his heart hammering wildly against his chest and could smell the harsh coppery tang of his blood that painted his skin red and dripped with alarming speed onto the concrete beneath him. Even in his terrible state, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

The reason for his peril and quickly drawing death was slowly circling him. The horde of Foot soldiers moved in closer, moving in for the kill, their movements slow and predatory, reminding Don of a sleek black panther.

Unable to stay on his feet, let alone pick up hiss fallen weapon and defend himself, Don felt his legs give out from under him. He didn't even feel himself hit the ground. Closing his eyes, Don waited with baited breath for the killing blow that was to come.

But it didn't.

The sudden _clang _of steel grating against steel rang in his ears, followed by the sound of low growls and snarls, and for a wild moment, Don truly thought the Foot soldiers _had _turned into panthers.

The sound of bodies hitting the ground hard were punctuated with swearing and threatening snarls.

Then there was nothing but silence.

_I must be dead, _Don thought blearily to himself. _But that can't be, _the rational part of his brain whispered to him, for he could steel feel the rough concrete biting into his skin, and the stinging pain of his injuries.

Cracking his eyes open, Don blinked through the rain that was falling to the earth. It took a while for his vision to clear, and when it did Don couldn't believe what he saw.

Looking up at his brother in disbelief, Don felt his heart swell with relief.

Red bandana tails streaming behind him in the wind, strong green hands came down and gripped Don's arms, calloused, battle-scarred and oh-so familiar. Molten gold eyes stared into his pale brown, as a thickly accented voice urged him to stay awake.

And that's when Don knew that everything was going to be okay.

Because Donatello didn't believe in angels, but as another flash of lightning lit the sky, illuminating his brother in its majestic light, Donatello could have sworn that Raphael had wings.

* * *

**This is actually something I wrote awhile ago for _NotAWordSmith's_ 'Drabble A Day Challenge'. Haven't been inspired to write lately, so I edited and extnded this short one-shot in the hopes that my inspiration will come back. *Fingers crossed***


	2. Chapter 2- Raphael

_**G**__uardian __**A**__ngel_

_Part 2_

* * *

_~An Angel in my bedroom~_

Raphael moaned. The searing pain in his head was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It felt like there were dozens of tiny men inside his head drilling holes through his cranium. His eyes burned with sensitivity; he could barely keep them open. His world spun dizzyingly and he felt like he was going to be sick.

He shut his eyes against the sudden brightness of his room, a wave of nausea rolling through his stomach. Raphael was no stranger to headaches. He actually got them rather frequently, the main cause of them being from an annoying Michelangelo. He had had migraines before as well, only a couple and none as bad as the one that gripped his skull like a vice.

The sound of his alarm going off sent pain radiating through Raphael's skull. It was so loud, and it wouldn't stop. Raphael reached out and knocked his alarm to the ground with a _crash, _which silenced it pretty quickly. A small part of Raphael's mind knew that he had to get up to train with his brothers, but the thought of exercise, let alone getting out of bed, made Raphael physically sick.

He couldn't stand the pain much more. He was sure that his head was about to burst from pressure. He couldn't open his eyes now, couldn't move and couldn't speak. He wanted to curl up in a ball and make the pain go away. He wanted to be comforted like he was when he was a child. He didn't want to be alone with this pain.

There was a sudden coolness washing across Raphael's forehead. It instantly made the pain in his head lessen. A warm, familiar hand rested on Raphael's shoulder, comforting and reassuring. It was then that Raphael realized that the coolness was coming from a wet cloth that had been placed across his forehead.

Opening his eyes as much as he could, Raphael could just make out the blurred shape of someone leaning over him. A soft, gentle voice murmured something to him, though Raphael couldn't focus enough to actually hear what they were.

The blurred shape moved until it was sitting down next to him, pulling Raphael into a warm embrace.

Raphael briefly wondered if he was delusional, and if he should be mad that there was an angel in his bedroom. But he decided against it as the pain in his head continued to lessen.

He didn't really mind if there was an angel in his bedroom any more.

* * *

**A/n: I decided to continue this into a short series of four drabbles, one for each of the turtles. I hope you guys enjoyed this short little tale. Oh, and if anyone wants to know, the 'angel' is Leonardo :)**

**Feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading,**

**~Cat**


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